culminate
by msmaj
Summary: Fixed, no more songs.


_Note: I do not own, any of the characters, and I have fixed my musical indiscretion, I guess this is what happens when you haven't written in 10 years._

"Did I wake you?" She asked sheepishly. "I didn't mean to, I, uh, just um…"

"No, not at all." He interrupted. Her stammering was adorable, sighed in relief. "I don't really think I slept at all." He hadn't, and by the sound of her voice, she didn't' either.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't either. Sleep when you're dead you know?" She tried to joke, but its effect was more like knives in Dylan's heart.

"Emma," he chided. He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him, she was always upfront about her reality, but he couldn't bear it right now, not with what he was planning on doing.

"I'm sorry, Dylan, it's just, no sleep and all thinks, make Emma, I don't even know." She chuckled and he found himself smiling along. How could he be so happy at six a.m.?

"So why are you really awake, Miss Decody?" She felt that stirring in her chest. She couldn't understand how she convinced herself that Norman was what she wanted, she never felt this when she was around him. Literal butterflies, stealing her calm and leaving her gush from every pore.

"Um," she bit her lip. She wondered if he could tell how nervous she was. She knew exactly what she wanted to say but couldn't force the words past her lips. "I wondered if maybe…" she looked back to the park, the swings swaying gently in the morning breeze. "…you wanted to let go a little bit?"

"What do you have in mind?" he inquired. He would be wherever she told him to be, without thought, without hesitation.

"Meet me at the park."

"I'll be there before you know it." He wondered if she could tell his heart sped up. He was going to see her. Right now. Get it together, man!

"I'll be waiting, Mr. Massett." She hung up the phone. Half elated, half terrified, and completely enamored. She almost forgot that she hadn't slept all night, her hair a matt from the headrest, eyes shaded with yesterday's mascara. She cleaned herself up as much as she could and waited, more anxiously than she could have imagined.

When he pulled into the parking lot Emma had just started to drift asleep. Her fingers absently twirled tangled designs in her hair. How Dylan had wished it was his hair that her hands got caught up in. He swallowed hard and gently tapped on her window, eliciting a small jump that made him laugh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He chortled. She looked up at him, her uneasy brown eyes drinking him in, he would never find his way out of them. She smiled, softly, he could see it grow though, as she opened her car door, it was as wide and bright as it had ever been.

"Don't you know you're not supposed to sneak up on somebody with a respiratory disorder, hmm?" She playfully punched his arm. He looked back at her in mock disbelief, mostly, she hit harder than she looked.

"It was never my intention to sneak up on you. I could have just watched to sleep, but I am feeling very selfish, and I want this time with you." Sleep deprivation is a better truth serum than alcohol, Dylan determined. Emma blushed, and took his offered hand as she got out of the car. He leaned in close and reached for her oxygen tank behind her. There they stood, bodies touching, fingers entwined, breathing in tandem, searching each other's souls for the answers they were too afraid to ask out loud.

They eventually made their way to the swings, Dylan carrying her oxygen tank, her arms wrapped around his, head resting on his strong shoulder. They sat down, as morning truly came to fruition, sun blazing orange trails against the foggy landscape. Their silence was perfection. Just being this close to one another, no interruptions, no false pretense for spending time together. They were finally, exactly where they wanted to be. They swing in silence, for just a few moments of carefree glee, where they were allowed to act like any young people falling in love, without having to think of the world that was constantly crashing around them. Dylan looked at her bemused. He had to stop questioning if this was real. She was here, she wanted him here, and every time she looked at him he made a point to stare with such intensity that she wouldn't question it either. Though he was sure she was, that was just Emma, he needed to make sure she knew that he was here for her, with her, for the long haul.

"Emma?" She looked over to him, legs stopping their momentum, trying to slow herself enough to make eye contact. He got off his swing and came to stand in front of her, his hands gripping the chains of the swing, stopping her entirely. He had to say it. He would not wait another moment. He slid his hands down on top of hers, still gripping the chains tightly, and kneeled in front of her. They were eye to eye, he swallowed hard when he saw he lip sucked between her teeth, biting ever so slightly.

"What is it, Dylan?" Her nerves were obvious in her voice. It was more raspy than usual, her breathing cadence shallow, her heartbeat pounding through her veins.

"I'm not very good with words," he started, laughing slightly, eyes leaving hers for just a moment, but when they reconnected there was a clarity there that burned so brightly, she just knew what had to be done. She leaned forward and kissed him. It was nervous and timid at first as if neither was really sure that's what the other wanted, but once their bodies recognized their mutual spark, they ignited. His hand left hers and found its way to her face, the other placed around her waist, pulling her closer. She didn't know when it had happened, but she found her hands running up and down his neck, pulling and teasing tufts of hair between her fingers.

Neither was sure how long it lasted. They only broke away because they had to. Dylan could feel Emma struggling for breath and he released her, much to her chagrin.

"You didn't have to stop." She pleaded breathlessly. His fingers still in her hair, thumb still cradling her cheek.

"I am nowhere near ready enough to lose you just yet. I am not doing anything that will compromise your well being." She pulled back from his embrace, agitation setting across her face.

"Dylan, I am not a child. Nor am I a delicate fucking flower. I can make out for as long as I want," she rolled her eyes and reminded herself, " as long as I have ample oxygen and my inhaler." She didn't want him to think she was mad. As a matter of fact, she wasn't at all, she was touched by his concern, she wasn't pushing him away. He laughed and she got lost in his smile.

"Alright, I won't doubt your abilities again. But you have to promise you'll tell me if something is wrong. Your tenacity is one of things I most love about you, I just don't want to put you at more risk if I can help it."

Did he just say he loved something about me, not like, but love? She thought, her breathing was heavy but it had nothing to do with her lungs. "I promise I will never let you think that anything you do to, or for me, will put me at risk. Every moment I get to spend with you is a risk I am overjoyed to take. The rest of my life will be measured in metered risks, everything I want to do placed on a scale of worth compared to my life quality, and you will outweigh every con. I will risk all of my risks, for just a little more time with you." He kissed her again, softly, commiting the feel of her lips to his memory. She shivered against him, he smiled against her lips and cocked his head to the side.

"That cold?"

"Not exactly." She replied coyly. "But yes, I supposed, I am a bit cold."

"We can go sit in my truck for a little bit. I mean, unless you want to go home."

"No! Not yet. We can go talk, and get warm, because of talking." They walked toward the truck hand in hand, blissfully unaware of the world around them. They didn't seem to notice there were people around, they truly only had eyes for one another. They would talk in the truck, just, not quite yet.

When they finally broke apart it was mid-morning. Cars passed their parking lot, eyes had pried on their private moment, but they hadn't cared. For the first time, in either of their lives, they had found something they wanted, followed through and got it. There was no time for second guessing, no games, no bullshit, from here on out it was just the two of them.

"Isn't your dad worried?" Dylan asked, fingers fidgeting over Emma's, keeping at least some part of his hands on her at all times.

"He knows I'm where I want to be. I told him how much it meant to me to be able to spend some time with you tonight…last night…I couldn't have dreamed it would lead me here. Dylan, my entire life has been tied up in a little box, pretty and prepackaged death before thirty. I never could have imagined to find anything, that has ever felt this..." she paused, trying to find the word.

"Real?" He posited.

"Yeah," she shook her head in agreement. "It is real. In every aspect, every instance, every definition. I really like being around you, I really like the way you make me feel and more importantly, I like every thing about you. The good and the bad, because without it, you would not be who you are." He scoffed loudly, running his fingers through his hair, it was the first time they'd broken contact in what seemed like forever.

"Yeah but you have no idea what I have done, what I'm capable of." He could feel the recoil of the gun throughout his body still.

"We're all capable of terrible things, or things we feel like we need to do. Whether the reason we do it is misguided affections, or utter loyalty, when it comes from a place of love, how can it be all wrong?" And in that moment he knew he could move from his past, move forward in a life with her, but only with her. He knew all of his debates came to this head, do I tell her now, or do I wait? He refused to let anything spoil this night. He laced his hands back through hers, kissing her temple gently, leaving his lips hover by her ear. The spoke more of their lives, the little intracasies of their likes and dislikes, what they always wanted their futures to hold, and when she could barely keep her eyes open, he drove her home.

"Should I walk you in?" He mused in modest chivalry. She smiled but shook her head no. "Okay, don't need to give your dad ammunition I suppose."

"That would be most wise." They stayed still, neither wanting to be the one to end their time together.

"Hey Emma, um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be gone for a little while…" Her eyes grew cloudy, he could not read what she was thinking. "…well, a few days at least, and I was hoping that when I got back we could have that dinner?"

"Oh, of course. I would really like that." Beat. "Do you have to go?" She asked with such sadness he nearly changed his mind, but he knew what he had to do. This sacrifice was just as much for himself as it was for her.

"I do, but I promise I will be back before you miss me." She sighed, leaning in to kiss him again, etching every detail into finite memories, reveling the taste of him on her tongue.

"I'll miss you before you pull away." With that she closed the door and disappeared into the building, taking such a large piece of his heart, Dylan wasn't sure he'd survive.


End file.
